


batim shorts and other things

by adore_a_jackdaw



Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-05
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 05:16:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17502314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adore_a_jackdaw/pseuds/adore_a_jackdaw
Summary: :p





	1. looping

Henry knew he was looping. Well at least for the last hour and a half, he aware he was looping. Sometimes he sees a corridor with a certain leaking pipe, with a certain poster slap bang in the middle of the wall and Henry will turn his head slightly in confusion and mutter.

“Joey you’re getting stale” and it would hit him.

Oh

His had this moment before.

 Where It all comes crashing down, and he knows  he’s never ever going to get out, that’s he’s never going see Linda again or his children or even grandchildren. That little glowing spark of hope lighting the way, and keeping the old man going is finally  is drowned dead.

Sure, there are things to hold to down here the days playing cards with Boris, the fleeting moments with Alice and the rare few seconds where one of the creatures show a shard of humanity and offer kindness over violence.

But Boris always dies one way or another, Alice and tom are always left behind when the machine looms over head and the humanity always seem to be wiped clean from Henry's memory the next time they meet.

No one’s getting out.

Not even him.

The machine rattles ahead, Alice and Tom stare far behind him from the sea of black.

Its better not to think about it.

 either way the climax to this story was approaching.

Might as well see what Joey has cooked up for him this time.

 

An hour later he would kill the ink demon and forget- something.

Whatever it was its not important right now his going to find out why Joey had written to him.

Henry steps into the old studio never seeing his own scribbles telling him to turn back.

 


	2. living dolls

Loop after loop, Henry remembers, and he forgets.

  
Joeys Drew's story gets shuffled and un-shuffled.

  
As the old man tries to find the perfect story he can finally be satisfied with.

  
But the parts are all still there.

  
Sammy hoping for something better

  
Norman left to wonder the halls

  
The lost ones and the searchers so lost they cling and kill.

  
Henry the lonely hero.

 

And finally, the ink demon

  
Bendy.

  
Well he’s a little different.

  
“Bendy” or the thing that uses Bendy’s unnerving smile for its own gain, never strays far from the role of the “villain” of the story. It always sits as the final boss waiting for the “hero”.  
But sometimes it was downright confusing.

  
Sometimes he would stare at Henry looking for something deep in him that can’t be seen then move on without a word. Sometimes it screeches and tears Henry in two before Henry knows what happen. Sometimes a monster- Sammy- Norman- Susie- Bertram- would offer out a kind assistance and the ink demon would be there crushing both Henry and the others head in. And Henry would wake up cold and alone.

  
Sometimes a monster would rise Henry up by the neck or pull at the door of the miracle station ready to strike then “bendy” would charge in screeching and tear them limb from limb, leaving Henry shaking in his boots as dark inky blobs drip like flesh.  
It takes many loops for Henry to realize what’s going on.

  
Or at least form a theory.

  
All the characters may have been living dolls

  
(yes, Henry knows he not really “Henry Stein” however much he wishes he was)  
But anything alive can slip off script.

  
Even dolls.

  
So Joey made “Bendy”.  
To keep everyone on script.

  
Joey don’t want to see what he’s done.  
So he made the ink demon.

  
To tie things off nicely.  
And keep them all in line.

  
But… maybe it- he? Might slide off script too.  
The ink demon stares down at Henry with no eyes.

  
And he offers a single gloved oversized hand.  
Do things really change?

  
To find out you must act.  
Henry reaches out his hand and-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :p


	3. Your not Henry

Joey knew that Henry had a religious grandfather- he was a stern man, a man of a church all his long, long life , and he was not a kind one.

“fear the devil” he would say. His old bone creaking as he stared down at a chubby cheek of young Henry and Joey merely a handful of years old.

“He is dark as the night and his eyes glow with a bright light” he hisses thought his yellow smoke-stained teeth, making Henry tremble and cower.

 Joey rolled his eyes.  The devil? Demons? Fff ridiculous.  He only wanted to scare the troublemakers out of them.

Joey snorted “that’s dumb demons aren’t real” his eyes gleaming and smile sharp.

The old man snaps to face him.

 “you dare question me boy?” he hisses the spark of fire it the man’s eyes. He leans in closes spiting in joeys face.

“I have served the church for 50 long years and I know the sin of man, child! I know what the devil can do”

“trust him once and he will take everything you have and then everything else” 

He turns away looking far off.

“and you will never know until its too late”

Henry is still hiding behind Joey holding onto his arm tightly joey pats his hand as the older man rolls a pen between his fingers.

“Don’t make a deal with him”

And the older man hobbled off. Leaving the two.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~

 

 

On the 24th of march 1923 a lone gun man was seen entering a small private area between 11pm and 3am carrying a M1903 service rifle. Local residents claimed to have heard gunshots within this time frame and the police have been investigating the incident, chief constable of police John Willish issues a warning and a request to keep vigilant at this time. He states that “me and my team will get to the bottom of this incident as soon as possible; but keep an eye out for anything strange and report it to the local police box as soon as possible”.  No one has been reported missing but a few of the resident claimed that they saw a second individual enter the area and not leave. Police are still investigating this statement but say that the possibly of someone being shot is still being examined.

At this time please be attentive and aware and do not leave you house in the evening.

Thank you for your time.

Head of the dairy news

Robert Ashley

 

 

~~~~~~~~~

 

 

The studio was quite as Henry worked, most of the employees has left long before the clock had struck 9pm, but now; 3 hours later at 12:pm on March 24th, Henry felt exhaustion finally catch up to him.

He should really go home.

Henry sighs picking up his leather bag, with his wallet, notebooks and the single blue pen. He places his hat on his head and walks over to Joey to tell him, he was heading home for the night. Joey nods his head and tells him, he’s going to stay a little longer to get the paper work done. Before leaving Joey would turn to call out:

“oh, be careful Henry, you don’t know what’s are out there”

Henry stares for a second blinking his green eyes before chuckling

“Don’t worry Joey”

“it’s not like I’m gonna get shot”

And with a flare of his hand he would open the door with a creek and disappear into the night.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~

 

 

“Hey boss”

“what is it Wally? It’s 1:30am shouldn’t you be home by now?”

“yeah I should Joey but-“

“but what Wally?”

“Henry forgot his keys.”

Wally dangled the keys in fount of joey making them clink.

Joey sighed grabbing the keys from between Wally’s fingers.

"Gosh darn it" 

 Joey sighed and went to grab his coat.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Joey swiftly followed the route to Henry flat, forgotten Keys clenched between Joeys fingers.

Honestly, he could not believe it! Henry was a quiet man, but he certainly wasn’t a air head- well most would say he had his head in the clouds dreaming of the future, but Joey knew better! He was slower than most sure, but he was sharp as a tact when his attention was centered on something. He was mostly likely still thinking of the work the studio needed when he left his keys- yes that’s it!

....

and sleeping in an actual bed for once.

God Joey though- I really need to give Henry a break.

Joey smiled shaking his head at best friend antics, he worked too hard for his own good.

Joey turned down a secluded road  chuckling to himself.

And joey suddenly froze.

A leaking lump lay in the middle of the path.

 a smell of copper filled his nose as he stared pale and wide eyed at its back.

The lump sprawled across the floor its fingers spread out loosely cradling it bleeding belly.

Joey called out his voice shaking.

There was no reply.

 

 

 ~~~~~~~~~

 

 

Henry Stein aged 23 - was shot with five slugs- from a M1903 service rifle- in the back, neck and head on march the 24th 1923 . The final shot- the shot to the head killed him instantly and his body was left on the street to be found. with most of his valuables taken and to be never seen again.

The taken items included; his grandfather old wrist watch- the leather buckle belt and his wallet which contained $75, a few business cards with small doodles on the back and a blue pen.

Henry Stein aged 23 heart stopped at 1:45am on 24th of march, his blood seeping out his spin, neck and head, soaking his clothes and notebooks that that scatter across the floor out of his leather bag. His pale green eyes glassy staring far off into the distance and his muscles cooling to an sharp cold- never to be warm again.

The police would have said it was a run and gun- a mad man who was desperate for money and Willing to do anything for wealth- even kill.

the person in question would have be found guilty in a court of law and then sentenced to death for their crimes.

The police would have, if they found the body.

Or if the man ever was reported missing.

 

 

  ~~~~~~~~~

 

 

On the 27th of march 1923 Joey Drew would be seen- a well know friend of Henry Stein - guiding Henry back to his flat on evens street, looking groggy and confused at the flat and Joey.

When questioned about Henry's condition Joey just smiled and said “the poor lads been overworking himself” he pats Henry's back. “He really needed a break, so I brought him home- and the nasty bump on the head was not helping much either.” When question about the large bump on Henry's head Joey smile stiffened

“oh a floorboard fell on his head” he said

“nothing to worry about”  he said

“he will be back making cartoon soon enough” he said

And Henry was, he made cartoons. he story boarded  13 different short films, created the whole cast of the show with all the care in the world. He was  the head of the animation in Joey Drew studios for 14 years until he was fired in 1937 for unknown reasons. He was well liked and married at the age 29 to a wonderful lady and was well loved with his colleges and friends.

But something didn’t feel… right.

Henry wondered to himself odd.. things…

Sometimes he would wonder if his skin fitted properly around his muscles and bones, or why he chose a _demon_ of all things to be the main charter of the show. He had feared demons since his grandfather held him and filled his head with dark twisted stories. 

But now, he drew and drew and drew a little demon, over and over and over again. The little devils eyes gleaming out of each page his smile seeming to get wider and wider each time.

Maybe it was how he sometimes glanced in the mirror -a dark smudge with glowing eyes with far too many teeth would smile back at him for a fraction of a second only to be replaced by the soft face that always greeted him in the mirror.

And his dreams they were the oddest.

Henry would dream of a dark place at night.  Were voices called for him to come back- come back home- and in those dreams a great sickness would eat him from the inside- the want- the NEED to go home- to be what he really IS- bigger and darker with every tooth sharper than a knife.

or why sometimes joey would just stare at Henry as if he did not know him- or why he thought his eyes where off for some reason. Or why he thought he should bleed red.

I mean everyone bleeds black when they cut open their arm.

Right?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Joey stands in the dark, his eyes glassy and steady at the creature across from him, its form dark, its eyes glowing and its smile wide. And in between the two a single hand sinks into a black puddle deeper and deeper until its completely gone.

A dark clawed hand reaches out.

“do we have a deal Joey Drew?”

Joey swallows and places his own hand into its

“deal”

And the world shook.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A couple of hours later Joey would leave the studio and he would not be alone.

And Henry was ~~never~~ the same again.

                        

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> have fun figuring out what this ones about! because i have no idea :p


	4. perfect imortal

Waiting was one of the harder hobbies-

Down here, when all you had was time, leaking walls and the relentless suffering.

Something…. something important leaves you when your immortal.

When you flesh, all red inside and functioning- made for one trip of the ride of life and death- has its core- its soul- ripped kicking and screaming and then jammed into something else- Made into something it’s not meant to be- when that core that human conciseness  is pushed and bent (BROKEN) into a new unchanging shape- then to be flung away and broken again and again and again until there noting but a shape. a nameless shade of them self’s with only a black and white beating heart to show that there where once “human”

(some don’t even have that anymore)

You pull you broken body across studio.

The dark shapes that bend and break there weak forms of others to splatters  follow you.

As all ways.

Most, the ones with splinters of a mind, scatter when they see you.

They know deep down at their core to fear the ink demon.

It’s the ones that have a little more than that, - those are the ones that have stupid ideas.

You see one.

The “aware one” there back bent look looking at the floor muttering to its self as it checks empty cans of soup for “food” each of the empty can are dropped to they carelessly clattering to the rotten floor.  There completely unaware you’re here.

 Huh

Time to eat you think

You lung at them

They scream and fall to their knees, the cans tumble to the floor scattering to the far corners rolling and bouncing  to safety.

You turn pulling back the instant killing blow

They scrabble backwards hitting hard on the walls

You wait for a second

Waiting to see how it would wiggle.

Whatever it did or did not do it will not be getting away.

Its trapped.

“Please” they beg

“PLEASE I JUST WANT TO GO HOME” IT CRYS ITS TEARS DARK AND INKY

(silly isn’t it? Such a human response from something that’s not even human anymore)

You bend down low, your smile, which holds no humour,  lowers to peer at it

The little one splatters the back of its head against the wall its single glowing eye wide.

You pull away a little studying it.

God this creature is boring.

its hardly worth your time, you think

And with a blink of an eye the  dark shadows that follow you shatter the lost one to pieces.

It hardly had time to scream.

And all that’s left is a beating heart

Thump thump

Thump thump

Dead, but never gone.

That’s the rules of this studio.

You pick it up and unhinge you jaw pushing it down between teeth.

And there blacken heart sinks down your throat still begging and pleading for home.

Hopefully it will quieten down soon.

Along with all the rest.

It settles and the dark that follows you spread out a little more.

Its like an electric shock and you seep deeper into the wall claiming  even more of this studio as you own.

(as if anyone would argue who its belonged to)

(its you-its you- its you- its you- ITS SINGED WITH YOUR NAME)

You feel more of your eyes open.

Far below you, a cardboard cut-out peers out and sees the only mortal thing walking quietly across the hall.

Ah there he is

“Henry”

You remember him

You wanted him for something

You ponder for a second titling you head to the side.

Oh right!

You wanted to make him like you.

But perfect.

His was meant to the first you.

The.. first Bendy.

But he never showed up

…

He never showed up.

The fire in your guts suddenly burns bright and hot

The walls crack with your rage.

He NEver SHOweD UP.

Everything holds it breath

The dark lines fill the room

Leaving only the ghostly smile glowing In the dark.

HE NEVER SHOWED _UP._

The rage burns so bright you want to tear and break everything and eat until the hollowness in you soul is finally filled with nothing but quite but the voice in you empty gut screams louder with you until you are nothing but cinders of rage.

…

It takes you a while but you come back to yourself. the room is ruined with scratch marks broken chairs and walls ink splatters covers everything eating at the walls.

But never mind the walls, you’re here, you’re thinking.

There are more important things to attend.

Back on the plan yes, the plan.

Your goanna make it hurt you think, when you pull his red and bloody heart out and make him like you,

Make him forget who he is - break his mind into splinters and make it new.

you bet he will be small round faced when you are done

smaller than you came out as- rounder too.

A perfect Bendy.

Yes, that’s what he needs.

(its what you need too)

A prefect bendy.

 he’s heading down.

Things, it seems, are going to plan.

Good.

It’s the core of the studio is where you need him to be.

Next to the studios metal beating heart.

The ink machine

(dead but never gone)

(there all in there somewhere)

(even you)

You push at the walls becoming one with them and head to core too.

Its where you will meet him-

 And that’s where you will make him _perfect._

 


End file.
